


Pirates In The Attic

by AnonymousSong



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Kidlock, fuckyeahteenlock halloween contest, ghostlock, short but sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:43:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousSong/pseuds/AnonymousSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock pretend to be pirates.</p>
<p>[For the FuckYeahTeenLock Halloween Creature Feature contest]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pirates In The Attic

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo this is pretty short. Because I'm the number 1 procrastinator and never get shit done when I should. So I had to rush this a bit.
> 
> I might actually add on to this later. I've got a rough idea but no guarantees.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and have a Happy Halloween~ uwu

\-----------

John quietly crept through the house, dodging the squeaky floorboards and trying to navigate with his torchlight. Thankfully, the light of the moon let him see his way to the attic door. Once he reached it, John carefully turned the doorknob and opened the door. He slipped behind it and closed it.

The flight of stairs up to the dusty attic made him smile and he quickly flicked his torch on. Remembering to keep quiet, he picked his way carefully up the old stairs.

“Sherlock!” he called out in a whispered shout. “Sherlock, are you here?”

“Of course I’m here, John.”

John turned to see his friend. The boy was seated on an old sofa that belonged to John’s grandmother and had been sitting in the attic gathering dust since she died. Sherlock looked as he normally did - covered in dust with rips in the knees of his trousers, mud caked on his shoes, and a slight transparency to his entire form.

“You should have come up here earlier. I’m bored!”

John smiled and seated himself next to his friend. “Sorry. Mum doesn’t like me coming up here. I had to wait for her to fall asleep.”

Sherlock quickly got to his feet, standing on the sofa. Though, it was not actually standing so much as floating above it. The ripped and dusty clothes he wore shifted into another outfit - stained trousers, a white button-down shirt that was too big, and a red sash around his waist. Resting atop his black curls was a large pirate’s hat.

“Come along, John! We’ve got treasure to find and adventure awaiting!”

“Aye, Captain Sherlock!” John slipped on a eyepatch and took out the small telescope he’d found two weeks ago among the knickknacks in the attic. He climbed onto the arm of the sofa and put the telescope to his eye. “Captain! There’s another pirate ship ahead!”

“Well, we’ll just fight those dogs off! Man the cannons!”

“Aye aye, sir!” John jumped down from the sofa, landing heavily on the floor and raced over to a dresser that was turned onto its back. He crouched the side of it and pretended to line the cannons up. “Cannons ready, Captain!”

“On my mark!” Sherlock floated above the large globe behind John. “Ready! Aim! Fire!”

Both boys yelled out, “Boom!” They covered their eyes as the imaginary explosion shook the air.

“We hit ‘em! Jolly good work, John!”

“Should we check their ship for treasure?”

“Brilliant thinking! Come on, let’s go! Oh, but be careful! There’s some pirates still on the boat. We’re going to have to fight them off! Charge!!”

“Charge!” John repeated, rushing to the other side of the attic. He swung an imaginary sword, slicing through invisible enemies.

“John, help, I’ve been hit!” Sherlock held a hand over his chest where the fake wound was.

“I’ll avenge you, Captain!” John dashed over and fought with Sherlock’s enemy. “Take that! And that! Ha ha, Captain, I got the scallywag!”

“Good man, John. As first mate, you become captain when I die.”

“But Captain!”

“No! It’s okay. Did we get a lot of treasure?”

John looked at the boxes and old pictures surrounded them. He smiled down at Sherlock. “Mountains of gold, Captain. And rubies and diamonds and all other jewels!”

“Excellent. And with that final good thought, I die.” Sherlock closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, tongue laying out. After a moment, his figure faded from sight and disappeared entirely.

John giggled.

Sherlock’s voice scoffed. “You can’t giggle, it’s my death scene!”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so dramatic, it’s funny.”

Sherlock’s form appeared before John, still in pirate garb, with his arms crossed.

“It’s not funny! It’s supposed to be tragic.”

“Oh, well, my apologies. Should we do it again?” John shifted the eyepatch up so that he could see better. “Or maybe a different adventure?”

“We could take down the government! And be the best pirates around!” Sherlock raised an arm in triumph and a wooden play sword appeared in his hand.

“Yeah, and we would be in charge and everyone would have to give us their gold because we’d be the best!”

“They’d write books about us - Captain Sherlock Holmes and John Watson!”

“The best pirates who ever lived!”

There was a beat of silence and John felt his face get hot.

“I mean…”

John sat back, feeling embarrassed. They’d had an unspoken agreement to not talk about Sherlock’s state of existence. He may be a kid but John knew that for someone to be a ghost, they had to have been alive and then died. And Sherlock certainly wasn’t talking about it and John didn’t want to lose him. Ghost or not, Sherlock was his best friend.

“Oh hush, John. I know what you meant.”

Sherlock stood in front of him, sword gone. He let out a sigh, hands going to his hips.

“How about we play pirate and navy? I’m sure my vast pirate armada can take your measly navy force.”

John snorted. “Sherlock, pirates _were_ defeated by the navy.”

“But I’m the best pirate ever so I can’t be beaten.”

“You’re a bit of an arse, you know that?”

“John Hamish Watson!”

Both boys looked up to find an angry Mrs Watson.

“Mum.” John gulped.

“How many times have I told you to stay out of the attic?”

“I was just-”

“You could get hurt! And your clothes are completely covered in dust!”

“Sherlock and I were-”

“Sweetheart, I’m tired of hearing about your imaginary friend. You’re ten-years-old. Come on! Go change and get to bed!”

“But!”

“No buts! Be happy I’m not grounding you!”

“Your mother is such a delight, John,” Sherlock grumbled.

“Shut up!” John whispered.

“What was that?” his mother asked.

“Nothing.” John stood up, mournfully.

His mother motioned towards the door and John dragged his feet. He looked over his shoulder to where Sherlock had been but the ghost boy was gone.

“Come on, John.” His mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, attic door open, waiting for him.

“John,” Sherlock whispered in his ear. 

John turned to see Sherlock, dressed now in what looked like pajamas and a bed sheet wrapped around him.

“See you tomorrow,” Sherlock said, smiling.

John returned the smile. “Aye aye, Captain.”

Sherlock disappeared and John left the attic, his mother closing the door behind them.


End file.
